The last week in March was, with little doubt, one of the most trying for Hillary Clinton's campaign. Her quest to gain superdelegates was blunted by Bob Casey and Bill Richardson, two major party players who have clearly recognised the writing on the wall.

The core of her experience rationale was called into question when it was revealed that, on multiple occasions, she had dramatically exaggerated her experience landing in war-torn Bosnia. It was also revealed that she had almost nothing to do with the S-Chip programme she claimed to have created, with a number of those involved describing her accounts as straining credulity. She still hasn't released her tax returns, without explanation or justification. And, she was quoted as taking credit for lobbying for the Family Medical Leave Act's passage, though it had passed the House and Senate before her husband took office.

Her insistence on making her candidacy about experience has shed light on parts of her character that might have been better left in the dark.

The tone and tenor of her campaign has also taken a surprising turn, becoming more and more a vehicle for open hypocrisy. Out of one side of her mouth, Hillary argues that all remaining contests should be completed before a decision is made and that Florida and Michigan ought to be seated for fear of their disenfranchisement. Out of the other side, she argues that the delegates that were allocated based on state primaries and caucuses should actually ignore their obligation to support the candidate to which they were pledged. She is uncomfortable disenfranchising Florida and Michigan, but perfectly content tossing out the other 48.

It would be silly were it not so serious.

The confluence of these events may have contributed to Hillary's slide in the national polls, a sign that perhaps she has crossed a line that even her ardent supporters dare not follow. Last week's NBC/Wall Street Journal poll found her favourability rating had collapsed to 37%, and a recent Gallup tracking poll has her down 10 points against Barack Obama.

It is likely, though, that this slip in polls is a preview of more to be expected. Though the facts of the race have remained relatively unchanged since March 4, the coverage has changed dramatically. For weeks (if not months), the blogosphere has been saturated with compelling arguments explaining why Hillary cannot possibly reach the nomination. With the exception of rare stragglers like Jonathan Alter of Newsweek, very few in the mainstream media took a similar tone.

But last week that all seemed to change. Rather than inaccurately portraying the race as a virtual tie, a horserace likely to produce a photo finish in Denver, the media has begun to confront the harder truth that the Clinton campaign is over. Like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense, the Clinton campaign doesn't yet know that it's already dead.

Her remaining rationale requires that superdelegates support her en masse, even if that means subverting the will of the voters. Thus far, there has been no indication, not even a remote one, that the superdelegates are inclined to do so. If not the superdelegates, Hillary needs pledged delegates to abandon their obligation. But pledged delegates are hand-selected by the campaigns they are pledged to, a group of true loyalists whose betrayal is truly implausible. She cannot catch up in the popular vote. She cannot catch up in the pledged delegate count. And she cannot catch up in states won.

At this point, her only hope would be for something so disastrous to happen to the Obama candidacy that superdelegates, the media, and the American people have an almost universal change of heart. Of course, any such event would likely be so dramatic as to end the Obama candidacy, forcing his withdrawal long before forcing the hands of party insiders.

The media has finally come around to this reality, and has begun to cover the campaign with accuracy for the first time since voting began. There will likely be nothing more punishing to the Clinton campaign. Until now, Clinton has been able to keep her supporters from defecting by convincing them that the race is exceptionally close and victory well within reach. But as Clinton supporters begin to realise that she cannot actually win, the tactics that she has shown comfort in deploying will become unpalatable.

After all, if she cannot win, why should Clinton supporters be comfortable with her aggressive attacks against Obama? If she cannot win, why has she been going out of her way to praise John McCain as being strong and ready and able? If she cannot win, why is she willing to take the party and the country through a painfully divisive convention fight, the outcome of which could be a weak and damaged nominee? If she cannot win, why is she still soliciting donors like they were an ATM on the bridge to nowhere? If she cannot win, why should they still support her?

These are difficult questions for Clinton supporters to confront, and none of the answers provide good news for her campaign. The media, at this point, has all but assumed that she will win Pennsylvania and move the goalposts yet again. But in the days between now and then, if this new media dialogue solidifies, Clinton might see a steep and rapid decline in her support, potentially enough to end the race in April.

Until now, the Clinton campaign has done a masterful job of depicting the campaign as a tight battle between champion and challenger, one expected to go 15 rounds without a knockout. But it seems far more like a best-of-seven series, one in which, after losing four games, she is inexplicably demanding to play the final three.